Myette.org

My friend Betsy tells this story about when we were traveling together in Honduras.  It was Betsy, Erika, Michael and I and our friends Maria and Davis who were traveling in Central America for the first time.  For those of you who have never had the pleasure of traveling in the developing world, one important thing you have to adjust to is throwing your toilet paper in the garbage can instead of in the toilet.  Toilets, household plumbing and sewer systems in these parts of the world (indeed most places outside of the U.S.) aren’t designed for large quanitities of paper and pipes quickly clog if inexperienced gringos dump a bunch of toilet paper in them.  No fun for anyone.  

So with that background information in hand we now arrive at the scene of our tale.  We had been at the Finca with our guests for about a week and arrived in San Pedro for an overnight hotel stay.  We stayed at a place called the Microtel which is part of a U.S. chain.  It was an upscale place with all the Holiday Inn amenities you might expect including the continental breakfast.  Davis, fascinated by the fact that it seemed so American after being in rural Honduras, was convinced he could flush his toilet paper (this, clearly, being the ultimate symbol of luxury).  After many attempts to dissuade Davis he decided to call down to the front desk and ask if he could flush his toilet paper down the toilet.  The response was a befuddled:  Why would you want to do that?     

Betsy retold that story to me the other day and talked about how she always uses it in class as the most perfect example of what is normal to one person being so completely foreign to another.  Davis thought it was so outside the norm to put his toilet paper in a trash can at the side of the toilet.  The man at the front desk couldn’t possibly conceive of why he would want to flush it down the toilet.  

After the election it seemed as if the flood gates opened up and it was ok to talk about race and how significant Barack Obama’s election was for us as a nation.  My own reflections have left me without any clear sense of what, in terms of race relations, this election means for us as a nation, me as an individual or for the relationship between two people on a subway car in downtown Chicago.  But what I am sure of is that for Michael, Jacob and Maggie the election of Barack Obama has forever changed what is normal for them and for generations that will come after them.  I imagine them and their children being interviewed in an exit poll years from now as and being asked if they considered race in their decision of whom to vote for and responding in befuddlement:  Why would I want to do that?